


Green-Eyed

by grim_lupine



Category: Social Network (2010)
Genre: First Time, Jealousy, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-30
Updated: 2011-01-30
Packaged: 2017-10-22 18:25:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/241165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grim_lupine/pseuds/grim_lupine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I've always liked you better than Dustin," Mark tells Chris, and Dustin pulls an exaggeratedly wounded face.</p><p>"But Mark! You're so amazing! Please share with me your way with women! Especially the part where you talked at her for almost twenty minutes and then forgot her name," Dustin says, crumbling into laughter on the last few words.</p><p>Mark smells a rush of familiar cologne and knows that Eduardo is standing next to him. Without even looking, he can tell the expression on his face is one of disappointment in Mark's lack of chivalry.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Green-Eyed

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into 中文 available: [Green-Eyed](https://archiveofourown.org/works/3885142) by [Mofery](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mofery/pseuds/Mofery)



> Written for the prompt: _(517): If i see another girl turn you down you should either turn gay or just kill yourself_

-

\--

Mark, Eduardo, Chris and Dustin are at a party, and Mark is drunk. This is not unusual. Mark is talking to a girl (he thinks her name is Jenny, but being the slightest bit unsure, he decides not to call her that and run the risk of having his drunkenness slapped out of him) who seems more interested in watching some guy pretend to vomit into a fishbowl and then surprise himself into actually vomiting than listening to anything Mark has to say.

This is also par for the course.

Mark isn't all that broken up about it, though. Besides the fact that he's really only talking to her so that he doesn't have to look across the room to where Eduardo seems hell-bent on dancing with every girl in existence, he's fairly sure that she's an Art History major, which - no.

" - and really, I don't think it's too much to ask for a basic requirement that they be more intelligent than a nine-year-old when they come to me for help," Mark finishes, and the girl (Gina? That sounds equally likely. Still not enough certainty to venture a guess, though) looks at him blankly like she has no idea what he's talking about. Mark doesn't really have any idea what he was talking about either. He lost the thread of his own conversation somewhere between relating the story of the time Dustin made out with a potted plant, mentioning Eduardo's reaction, realizing he'd mentioned Eduardo and then making a hairpin turn change of subject into - something? One of those idiots in his classes who pester him for tutoring? That's possible. Mark does try to spend as little time thinking about them as possible, but these are extenuating circumstances.

"Okay, I'm going over there now," the girl says decisively, pointing at the far wall. The fact that no one else seems to be standing over there suggests that she values the company of a non-sentient wall over Mark, which - is not all that surprising.

"Right," Mark says, and then deciding that it can't possibly hurt at this juncture with the basic tone of this conversation so far, he asks, "What was your name again?"

She shoots him a look suggesting she'll give up that information when the sun turns green and he turns into someone who looks a little more like Brad Pitt, and then leaves. On the way to the other wall, fishbowl-vomit-guy sways drunkenly in her direction and she stops to talk to him. Wonderful. Apparently even his company is preferable to that of Mark. Not that it matters. He has about 300 times the intelligence of anyone in this room, and one of these days he's going to become extraordinarily rich and famous and they will all be insignificant to him.

(If this monologue sounds rather like the evil-overlord games/fantasies Mark had as a child, well, Mark is really quite drunk and decides to blame this whole night on that fact.)

Behind him, Dustin is snickering loudly. Chris is at least trying to hide his own amusement. Mark's always liked him better than Dustin.

"I've always liked you better than Dustin," Mark tells Chris, and Dustin pulls an exaggeratedly wounded face.

"But Mark! You're so amazing! Please share with me your way with women! Especially the part where you talked at her for almost twenty minutes and then forgot her name," Dustin says, crumbling into laughter on the last few words.

Mark smells a rush of familiar cologne and knows that Eduardo is standing next to him. Without even looking, he can tell the expression on his face is one of disappointment in Mark's lack of chivalry.

"We can't all be Prince Charming," Mark mutters bitterly, and then promptly forgets what he's supposed to be bitter about when Eduardo laughs quietly and wraps an arm around his shoulders, tugging him in close.

"Okay, Mom's back, we're going now," Chris informs them with a knowing smirk, and tugs Dustin away and out the door before Mark can gather himself together to tell him he really should keep his fucked-up family fantasies to himself.

"If either of them were my kids, I'd probably murder them," Eduardo says, eyes crinkled up in amusement. His eyes are always so expressive. It probably comes from them being large enough to take up half his face.

"Like something out of an anime," Mark says out loud, and Eduardo raises an eyebrow at his apparent non sequitur, but says nothing. He's apparently also lost interest in the party, because he starts leading Mark toward the door as well. He still hasn't removed his arm, and Mark tells himself it's constrictive. It _is_. If ‘constrictive’ means ‘makes him want to curl into it forever’, of course.

"I don't understand," Eduardo says when they get outside and the wind hits them. "You always do this, try to talk to girls and then get shot down. But I know you're not even really interested in them. I can _tell_ when you're interested in something, and you - you just seem bored."

Mark is suddenly, briefly incensed. Eduardo knows when he's interested in something, does he? Well that's news to Mark, since he has absolutely no idea that - that -

"Maybe you don't know me as well as you think," he snaps, and pulls away. Or tries to, at least, except Eduardo seems to have suddenly developed the strength of a football player, and he won't let Mark move more than a few inches away from him.

"Yes, I _do_ ," Eduardo says quietly, stopping them in the middle of the sidewalk. His eyes are very dark, and very intent, and Mark's mouth is dry all of a sudden. "So why don't you tell me what's wrong, Mark. I want to help."

"Try pulling yourself away from your harem at a party for more than ten minutes and you might be able to figure it out on your own," Mark says viciously, and fuck, _fuck_ , his traitorous mouth apparently has an agenda of its own, because in no world did he intend to say that. That sentence is entirely too revealing for Mark's comfort, even to someone who knows nothing about him, and Eduardo - Eduardo knows nearly _everything_ about him.

Eduardo, who's staring at him like he's the world's most fascinating problem, one that he’s slowly but surely figuring out. "Mark," he says slowly, "you are the most idiotic genius I've ever known in my life."

"Oh, know a lot of those, do you?" Mark says - or intends to, before Eduardo's mouth is on his, one hand tipping Mark's chin up. Eduardo kisses firmly, surely, thoroughly, like he wants to do nothing else in life. His other hand threads into Mark's hair, tugging a little bit, and Mark can't stop himself from letting out a shocked groan that sounds far too needy for his taste.

He's blushing a little. He can feel the heat in his cheeks, and he's torn between hating it and flushing _all over_ at the way Eduardo smiles when he pulls back and sees it - a satisfied, confident smile, one that's saved from smugness by the surprised joy Mark can see lighting him up.

"You - " Eduardo says, breaking off to laugh a little. Mark licks his lips and tries to see if it tastes any different. "You were jealous," Eduardo says, and can't hide his delight.

"It's possible I was," Mark hedges, and scowls at Eduardo's answering grin. "Are we - " he breaks off, flushing a little again. He's not entirely sure how to ask whether Eduardo wants to head back to his room and maybe enact some of the vivid fantasies Mark's been having, but he's saved from trying to find the words by Eduardo's knowing look.

"Tomorrow," Eduardo says softly. "I want you at full capacity when we - " he breaks off as well, and bites his lip. That sign of vulnerability gives Mark the courage to grab Eduardo's jacket and use it to pull himself up on his toes for long enough to kiss him again.

"Tomorrow," Mark agrees, and lets Eduardo wrap his arm around him again when they start walking.

*

The next morning, Mark rolls over in bed and groans. He kind of feels like someone kicked him in the head, repeatedly. And then he remembers -

"Oh," he says to himself, and if he can't hide his grin, well, it's only him there, anyway.

Ten minutes later, he reaches out for his phone in case - well, in case - okay, whatever, he knows what he's hoping for.

He has three text messages, the first two from Dustin, apparently sent last night after Eduardo led Mark back here and kissed him at the door.

 _Okay, but seriously_ , the first one reads. Mark clicks on the second one.

 _If i see another girl turn you down you should either turn gay or just kill yourself_

Mark smirks. Then he looks at the last message, from Eduardo, which simply reads: _It's tomorrow._

Mark fires off a quick response to Dustin: _As usual, I am ten steps ahead of you_. Then he rolls himself out of bed and finds that even his head isn't killing him that much anymore.

It's tomorrow.

\--

-


End file.
